Blue Heat
by nickelsleeve
Summary: Fushimi spared the girl a passing glance. She was small-shorter than Misaki, the thought of which brought a twisted smirk to his face-with dark hair pulled back into a tight bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were too big for her face and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks gave him the distinct impression of a deer.


**A/N: I haven't written fic in probably five years when this popped into my head and I couldn't get it out. Enjoy.**

It took Saruhiko Fushimi a few minutes to discern that there was something different happening in the room where he worked at the Scepter 4 headquarters. He had been so focused on his reports and work that he naturally tuned everything out. But he couldn't escape the whispers and murmurings for long.

Especially when Hidaka burst through the doors causing an unusually loud clatter in the normally blissfully silent room.

"-new recruit-"  
"-on the way from the Captain's office-"

"- _girl_!"

Fushimi pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and turned to give the group of young men gossiping a steely glance meant to silence them. He clicked his tongue against his teeth when it didn't work. So much for his work day.  
The doors to Scepter 4's special operation's squad opened and the Captain, The Blue King-Reisi Munakata-stepped through the doors. Everyone sank into blissful silence.

Munakata cleared his throat and beamed at everyone in the room.  
"I have a new recruit joining your team today," he said and moved to the side allowing the new recruit to fully enter the room. "This is Saito Yuna."

The small figure entered the room and bowed low.

Fushimi spared the girl a passing glance. She was small-shorter than Misaki, the thought of which brought a twisted smirk to his face-with dark hair pulled back into a tight bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were too big for her face and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks gave him the distinct impression of a deer.

He decided she was aesthetically pleasing _enough_ but nothing special really and turned back to his work.

The rest of the group was decidedly against this calculated appraisal of Saito Yuna and quickly surrounded the new girl as though she was a new found oddity in their otherwise dull and structured lives.  
Boots clicking on the floor caused Fushimi to look up from his work and into the eyes of Munakata who was smiling brightly down at him in a way that made Fushimi scowl darkly.  
"She's a weapons engineer," the captain said, "and quite a brilliant one at that. Take care of her Fushimi."  
And with that he was gone.

Fushimi sighed. As if he would take care of anyone but himself.

All the same, Fushimi grew used to her presence in the seat next to him. She was quiet-a blessing-and rarely spoke. Sometimes he did find his eyes sliding over to assess the female next to him but it was only to check that she was working hard.  
The novelty of another female in the ranks hadn't worn off in the past months and so Fushimi was still subjected to the attentions of the other members of the squad.  
Hidaka and Domyouji were particular culprits of annoying him. They'd corner him everywhere in the dorms, asking him questions about the girl as if he would know. Worse still was when they'd approach her desk in the work room and try to make conversations with her.  
Fushimi's calculating eyes had noticed the way her cheeks flushed anytime anyone addressed her and the way her answers were short but soft. Her eyes never met anyone else-preferring instead to concentrate on her work.  
This morning though she wasn't at her usual spot in the work room. A fact that no one had missed and the usually quiet room was once again filled with whispers and mutterings and Fushimi had to pinch the bridge of his nose to ward off a headache.  
It was Fuse who managed to locate the girl, bursting through the doors, almost out of breath.  
"Saito," he panted, "sparring with Awashima…"  
That was enough for the male occupants of the room and suddenly Fushimi found that it was blissfully quiet again as everyone hurriedly exited. He looked at the empty space next to him and with an uncaring click of his tongue went to follow the others with an attitude of cat wanting attention but not wanting you to know it wants attention.

The sparring match was in full swing by the time he reached the practice room. It was immediately clear why there was a large crowd of males present.

Awashima herself typically attracted such audiences, no doubt due to her flaunting her impressive chest in compression clothing that only accentuated her assests further. And true to form she was in only a sports bra that barely contained her chest and tiny compression shorts, sweat dripping down her neck and a few hairs knocked out of place.

Saito was dressed similarly although in a tank top, which did seem to sit rather low across her chest emphasizing her own breasts. Her face was beaded with sweat as well and her usually tight bun of hair was unraveling, sending tendrils of dark hair to stick to her face and neck.

What Saito lacked in strength and size she made up for in pure grace and swiftness, even that Fushimi had to acknowledge, his eyes following her lithe movements as she weaved and dodged Awashima's blows.

She was fast. Slipping in and out of Awashima's brute force with soft movements at a speed that Fushimi was even impressed with. Saito vaulted over Awashima's head and landed across the room with such grace that it almost looked like she was dancing.

Still, the lieutenant was the lieutenant for a reason, and Saito was losing energy. She arched away from Awashima but was struck with a glancing blow on her shoulder causing her to lose momentum and securing the lieutenant's victory as she was downed by a kick.

Having seen enough Fushimi had turned to leave when his eyes caught Saito's large brown eyes. For once she seemed to hold his gaze although her cheeks, already pink from the exercise, seemed to grow a few shades darker.

Fushimi clicked his tongue and walked away.

Fushimi was deep into his work in the dark hours of the morning when a gentle clang to his left almost startled him out of the fog he was in. He looked up from his monitor to see Saito Yuna standing there.

Placed on his desk were knives, similar to the ones he used for battle but these glinted more and seemed to be made of some inky black metal. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before turning back to the work that he had been previously sifting through.

"They're made out of an obsidian alloy embedded with geothermal crystals that provide an alternate route for channeling your aura's power and enhancing its circumference," she said in a soft voice, her face glowing in the dim blue light of his monitor.

He picked up one of the cool black knives trying to hide his shock at the lack of weight that he felt from the knife. It was light as a feather.

Saito permitted herself a small smile. "Bonded together in a geodisic pattern for no added weight." She bowed low and began to leave the room.

Fushimi flipped the light weight knife through his fingers enjoying the cool sensation of the metal against his skin. "Why?"

She stopped and looked at him with a startled expression and Fushimi couldn't help thinking of a deer caught in the headlights. "Because I'm a weapons engineer and those are your weapons."

And with that she was gone leaving Fushimi to ponder how she knew those were his weapons with most of Scepter 4 fought with their sabers only. He lazily tossed the knife in his hand at the wall across from him-true to form it sailed across the room straight and true-before burying itself in the structure of the wall.

A fly that had been buzzing in the room not long before fell to the ground, cleanly sliced into two.

Of all the things that Fushimi disliked, and that was an extremely long list, Munakata's _bonding_ field trips were his least favorite.

He tugged at the collared shirt he wore and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, refusing to give the beaming captain any attention. He was engrossed in his PDA but something made the captain stop his chattering mid sentence and anything that shut Munakata up was good in Fushimi's opinion, causing him to look up at the commotion.

Saito Yuna was standing in the front hall, red as a tomato from all the eyes trained on her. She was wearing a dark green dress that had a plunging neckline that even Fushimi couldn't look away from that stopped short on her thighs and seemed to emphasize the tan of her skin. Her normally restrained hair had been let down and fell in dark and riotous halo to the middle of her back and as she walked past him in heels that added two inches to her short stature, Fushimi noted the exceptionally deep plunge in the back of her dress, exposing deeply tanned skin and taut muscles.

Awashima beamed from behind Saito-clearly this had been her creation-and hooking her arm around the still deeply flushed girl urged her forward into the group of people and down the hall.

The sound in the hall returned with a roar and Munakata signaled everyone to move out. They were off on their field trip now that the girls had arrived-22 minutes late, Fushimi noted-and the group of typically blue clad clansmen (and women) moved out in their finery.

Fushimi clicked his tongue as he sauntered past Hidaka who was currently nursing a ferocious nosebleed.

They reached the bar-no, not _that_ bar-a sleek and modern affair with stainless steel counters and dim lighting that Fushimi wouldn't be caught dead in if the captain hadn't expressly stated that he was to attend. Fushimi sighed and ordered a drink off the menu, if nothing else he could at least try some new wine.

With his drink in hand Fushimi settled into one of the darker corners of the crowded bar and let his eyes wander around the place.

The rest of the special ops squad was pressed around Saito Yuna, jabbering and chit chatting with her while she sipped her drink and kept her eyes trained on the floor. Fushimi noted that she still hadn't lost her flushed appearance. Whether from the alcohol-continuously and gratuitously filling her cup without her asking-or from being projected as the center of attention he wasn't sure. It was clear she was uncomfortable with all the attention he thought. With a click of his tongue he busied himself with his PDA.

Movement caused him to finally look up from the screen. It was Saito, escaping the confines of the now drunk group of blue clansmen to seek refuge in the dark corner of the bar. He saw her shoulders move with a nearly imperceptible sigh.

"Hey cutie," a deep male voice said. The other man probably hadn't seen that Fushimi was even in the corner now that the glow from his PDA was gone. The taller man leaned towards Saito, a predatory grin spreading across his face.

Saito shifted her weight, her eyes boring holes into the floor as she didn't respond. The man took this as encouragement and used his body to angle himself so that he trapped the small girl between the wall and himself.

"How about you come with me, eh?" he reached a large hand out to brush a piece of hair out of Saito's face, his fingers lingering just a little too long for comfort on her neck.

Fushimi heard her sharp intake of breath and his fingers twitched towards where he kept his knives hidden up his sleeves. He froze when he felt an almost invisible tug on the bottom hem of his shirt, almost like the way a small child would cling to him. His eyes flashed down to see that Saito had shifted herself so that her left arm was behind her body, her hand on his shirt where the other larger man couldn't see it.

That caused him to deepen his frown, unsure of what she was doing.

"What do you say, cutie," the man said and this time he made sure that his body pressed up against Saito's, his hand sneaking out to wrap around her waist. "Want to go have some fun?"

There was a sharp intake of air and then a soft voice. "Fushimi."

That startled him, he'd never heard her utter his name. He clicked his tongue.

"Run."  
Moving so fast he could barely see Saito twisted her body around pulling at his shirt before ducking under the other man's body and delivering a swift kick to the family jewels. There was a thud as the man fell to his knees in pain and another thud as Saito twisted again, moving so she was behind the man and pinning his shirt to the ground with two of Fushimi's knives, then with all the strength she could muster she slammed her heeled foot into the other man's back, blood splurting from the wound and covering her foot and ankle. Daintily, she leapt back, grabbed Fushimi's hand and before he could even assess what the hell was happening they were both running at break neck speed out the bar.

"What the hell was that!?" he managed to yell, still unsure why he was running with Saito or why he hadn't just jerked her hand away.  
"Strain," she panted.

He almost stopped right then but there was a loud explosion from behind him and bits of rubble hit him in his back keeping him from stopping. He wasn't sure how long they ran but suddenly they were climbing stairs and Saito was entering something onto a key pad before vaulting herself inside the dark room, half dragging Fushimi with her.

The large steel door fell with a deafening boom, sealing them in the darkness together.

Fushimi didn't like not knowing what was happening and really didn't like the fact that Saito obviously knew what was happening.

"What is going on?" he growled his hands finding her small neck in the darkness and shoving her up against the wall.

"He's a strain...known for raping and killing girls," she gasped out. She didn't fight his grip, just stood there limply. "Part of a bigger network of strains known for similar crimes. Couldn't tell you before, one of the group is a clairvoyant...only the captain and lieutenant and myself knew."

He released her and she fell weakly to the floor. "So you were bait."  
"We're to stay in the safehouse until the captain gives us the all clear."

Fushimi clicked his tongue.

"What was the strain's power?" he asked frowning deeply.

"Ah, that," she said in a small voice, "would be acidic blood…"

Remembering that she had been splattered with said blood and then ran on the offending foot Fushimi dropped to his knees and flipped open his PDA in the darkness, showering them with blue light. His eyes caught hers and he clicked his tongue again as he saw the tears welling up in them. She was in pain.

He hissed loudly as he looked down at her leg, the blood splatters were eating through her skin causing bubbling wounds to open along her leg and all the way up to her thigh. He cursed low and ripped his shirt off his back before scrubbing roughly at her injured leg trying to remove the traces of the strain's blood.

She tried to hold back her cry of pain at his ministrations, her hands convulsively finding his shoulders and digging her nails into him. She rested her wet forehead against his shoulder, shuddering against him as he ripped apart his shirt to create bandages to wrap her wounds before they turned sceptic.

"Stupid," she said as he finished and sat back against the wall next to her. "I didn't need to kick him. My anger got the best of me." She inhaled shakily, her face pale and covered in a sheen of sweat.

It wasn't long before her eyes closed and her body shifted so that her head was laying on Fushimi's bare shoulder. He glanced down at her face, ghostly white in the blue light of his PDA and grimaced. The room they were in was empty so he couldn't do anything further for her but even in her sleep he could tell by the heavy weight of her and the way her skin felt molten hot against his that she was still suffering.

With another characteristic frown he moved the sleeping girl so that she was laying prone, her head cradled in his lap. His fingers ghosted over her face, sweeping across her long dark eyelashes up to her forehead and down to her parted lips. He froze, unsure of what he was even doing. She murmured in her sleep and it sounded a lot to him like she whispered his name.

They were back in the special ops room, Fushimi silently next to Saito. The strain had been captured, the network dismantled and Saito had made a full recovery with only the scars on her leg to prove anything had happened at all.

His eyes kept sliding over to Saito and he wasn't sure why. She seemed to occupy his thoughts a lot since that incident and it was beginning to bother him.

It wasn't until Hidaka sauntered over to talk to Saito, her cheeks flushing and eyes locking onto her computer, that Fushimi realized this bothered him even _more_. With a click of his tongue he swiftly gathered his items and left the room, needing to get away from her.

He wasn't sure how or why he found himself standing in the dark doorway of one of the women's dorm rooms. All he knew is that he needed her to stop distracting him.

She stirred and raised from her bed, her dark hair curling around her in disarray, a too large t-shirt covering her frame. She blinked in the darkness and he could see the flush creeping up her cheeks.

Saito gracefully slipped out of her bed and stood, the shirt grazing the tops of her thighs. She ran a hand through her hair before rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Saruhiko?"

It was all he needed. Her to call him by his first name. With fast strides he reached her quickly and without thinking of anything other than her-Saito Yuna-wrapped his arms around the tiny girl and pressed his lips to hers.

She let out a sound of surprise and then her arms wound their way up and around his neck, her body melting into his. Her lips were hot he thought, he was hot. Hotter than he'd ever been, his skin and his blood flowing through him like molten lava. Even when he'd joined HOMRA he'd never experienced this kind of heat. It was under his skin and in his brain and it hurt and it didn't hurt and his head was swirling even as his hands found their way into her hair.

He clung to her, his mouth searching for something he couldn't form into words or even thoughts, his body on fire with every breath she took, with her scent, with her being. She was consuming him.

They finally came up for air, resting their foreheads against each other, chests heaving from lack of oxygen. Her fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck, sending searing heat straight through him and his grip around her tightened.

He couldn't look away from those eyes that reflected his own and then as if gasping for his final breath he said with almost a sigh:  
"Yuna."


End file.
